Healing
by SyonaKeleste
Summary: Slight AU with spoilers for the Kyoto arc. Tatsumi sustains burns, necessitating a stay in the infirmary. Tatari.


"How's my least agreeable patient?" Watari slipped through the door to the private room with a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of something distinctly less appealing in the other. Tatsumi had withstood being in the same room with Tsuzuki and Hisoka as long as both were unconscious; long silences, low whispers, and uncomfortable looks had taken over as soon as this was no longer the case, and Tatsumi had wisely asked Watari to move him.

"I'll be glad to be out of here and away from your dubious remedies." Tatsumi eyed the bottle of liquid sullenly; something that managed to be heavy and fizzy at the same time and which Watari claimed would feed his regenerating cells. Worse, it seemed to work.

"Tatsumi, that's the meanest thing you've said to me all day. You're well on your way to recovery." Watari crossed the room, settling the bottle and glass on the bedside table and motioning Tatsumi to scoot over so he could sit on the bed. He handed the secretary a dosage cup. "Bottoms up."

Taking the cup back once Tatsumi had downed its contents, Watari drew the secretary's hand forward, examining bandages. "These can come off." A pair of surgical scissors materialized from a labcoat pocket; Watari snipped the cotton efficiently from Tatsumi's bygone wounds as he watched. "I'll check the ones on your right arm and back tomorrow morning. I expect they'll still be sore now."

Tatsumi nodded. Though a bit unreliable as an experimenter, Watari knew what he was doing in the infirmary—not that he hadn't had enough practice lately, considering how much trouble Tsuzuki and Hisoka seemed to find on every mission.

"Tatsumi?" Watari's fingertips on his cheek startled him from his thoughts, and he looked up, startled.

"I need to replace the wrappings on your neck and cheek. Okay?"

Sitting up, Tatsumi allowed Watari to peel the gauze from his neck, the worst burn but that on his right arm (both the result of a fallen timber that had struck just as he'd discovered Tsuzuki and Hisoka, huddled together beneath the remains of a reinforced concrete wall, in the blaze). Watari's concentration was intense, his fingers careful not to injure tender skin as he cleaned the wound, applied ointment. He bit his lower lip, and Tatsumi's eyes were drawn inexplicably to the sight.

They had been about this close, he realized, when Watari had had him by the lapels by the pit of flames, furious at his willingness to give up on a friend.

"Thank you."

Golden eyes focused on him, understanding creeping onto Watari's features. After a pause of deliberation, Watari simply said, "You're welcome."

"I think I'm getting old." Tatsumi tried to smile, resulting in a lopsided grimace under the sudden intimacy of that look.

"If you say that, you will," Watari answered earnestly.

When Tatsumi didn't answer, he added, "This is your chance…now, to change what you want to change." Watari smoothed a strip of gauze. "There. Done."

"I've done what's needed for so long…I don't I know /I what I want anymore." The words rushed out, broken and hoarse, as though they knew this for their last chance. Tatsumi's eyes lit with pain.

"There are times when you have to risk everything to save what's important," Watari whispered roughly, refusing to break his gaze.

A long moment held them until Tatsumi spoke again. "Watari, how did you die?"

"Fighting to live." A tear clung to Watari's lashes. Tatsumi's thumb brushed it away, and Watari's hand rose to meet his, clasping it to his cheek. He leaned forward, Tatsumi's touch bringing him closer even as Tatsumi's eyes widened.

The meeting of their lips was not a call to passion, but a reassurance, an intimate measure of understanding. Perhaps Watari would be his lover soon, perhaps never; his friendship was assured. Tatsumi ran his fingers through the warm hair falling over his colleague's back, then released him.

Humor flickered through the concern in Watari's golden eyes. "I'd better get going before you sue me for malpractice." He collected his things, walked to the door, and paused, frowning at the bottle in his hand. "You're right; this stuff tastes awful."

Tatsumi chuckled. "Goodnight, Watari-san."

Watari smiled before turning out the lights. "Goodnight, Tatsumi."


End file.
